


Beat

by neveralarch



Category: District X (Comic)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 20:28:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1098269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neveralarch/pseuds/neveralarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mutant Town is a neighborhood like any other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [APgeeksout](https://archiveofourown.org/users/APgeeksout/gifts).



The thing about Mutant Town is- well. On the one hand, it's a neighborhood like any other. Izzy's had the beat for a long time, and he knows the people pretty well. Ninety percent of the stuff he gets called in for is petty thievery, drugs, assault, the shit that happens all over New York all day. People bleed, people call the cops, people cry. They're all just people.

On the other hand, this kid is crying fire. That's a bit different.

"Come on," says Izzy. He's bent over the kid, who's slumped on the sidewalk. "We know you took that lady's purse. What did you do with the money?"

"Won't talk to you," says the kid. Izzy can't tell if they're a boy or girl - head shaved, baggy clothes, too young to really show one way or the other anyway. It doesn't matter.

"Cause I'm a cop?" asks Izzy. "You gotta talk to some cop, kid. There was two hundred dollars in that purse."

"You won't understand," mumbles the kid. The fire is fizzing down their face, hissing into nothing when it leaves their skin. "You're not one of us."

"My wife is a mutant, she-"

"My wife is a mutant," parrots the kid, sing-song. "Fuck off."

Izzy shrugs and straightens up, beckons Bishop over. Bishop raises an eyebrow, but comes and squats down so he can look the kid in the eye.

"If you return the stuff," says Bishop, "maybe we can get Mrs. Delacourt to drop charges."

The kid hiccups and shivers. They reach out and trace the M scarred over Bishop's eye. Bishop doesn't flinch back, doesn't move at all.

"Huh," says the kid. "Didn't think any of us were cops."

"Times change," says Bishop. "You going to let us help?"

The kid blinks once, twice, and their eyes clear. They have wide, dark eyes. Pretty. The kid fishes the cash out of their pocket and hands it to Bishop.

"I'll talk to Mrs. Delacourt." Izzy takes the cash and counts it. "Just a sec."

He can hear Bishop and the kid talking as he walks away.

"You get that in a camp?" asks the kid.

"Yeah," says Bishop. "In 2063."

"Oh." The kid sounds like they're going to start crying again. "Shit doesn't get better, does it?"

"Recovered your property, Mrs. Delacourt," says Izzy. "Thief's a minor - you think we can let this go?"

"I guess," says Mrs. Delacourt - pretty, blonde, homo-sapien-passing. "No sense making trouble."

"It's already getting better," says Bishop, in the background. "Try to keep it together- ow!"

"Sorry," sniffles the kid. "I'd use a tissue but they kinda burn."

Just another normal day in New York.


End file.
